Key to Brooklyn
by Monosodium Glutemate
Summary: Spot tells the story of how he got the key he wears around his neck. PG for language
1. I

Title: Key to Brooklyn  
Author: MSG  
Rating: PG for Language  
Archive: You can if you want. Just tell me first  
Summary: Spot tells his Newsies how he got that key he wears around his neck.  
  
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KEY TO BROOKLYN  
  
  
  
  
It was a sunny day in Brooklyn, and Spot had just finished collecting the money from the papes he had his underlings sell for him. It had been a good day, really, very calm. He stretched out on the dock, soaking up the sunshine, maybe taking it easy for the rest of the afternoon.  
  
He yawned and put his hands under his head. It seemed that the undisputed king of Brooklyn decided to take himself a royal nap. Spot had just settled down for a nice dream of hot running water and eating keilbasa in the bathtub when he heard voices behind him.  
  
"You shouldn't wake him! He'll kill you!"  
  
"I can't just walk away, I gotta know! I got a week's wortha papes ridin' on this!"  
  
"He ain't gonna give you the money anyway, let's just go.."   
  
Spot jumped up and glared at the little rats who'd interrupted his nap. He recognized them as three of the younger newsies- a dark haired one, a real little one, and a rather dumb-looking one- barely old enough to be selling on their own, who'd wandered into his territory over the winter. "Whaddya youse runts want?"  
  
"It was Stinker's idea!" said the smallest one, shoving the dark-haired one forward.  
  
Stinker looked up at Spot with big please-don't-eat-me eyes. "W-well, Mista Spot Conlon sir, see... I.. I know dis guy, he's hoid all about you an' he saw ya pitcha in da papes that time, but he ast me what.. what you wear dat key for, and den I says I dunno you just does, an' he says you ain't so tough if you wears keys like little goils wear lockets, and den I says Spot Conlon's da best an' baddest Newsie an' I woiks fa him!" he finished proudly.   
  
The dumb one grinned with his pink, round face and crooked teeth. "He said that, he did!"  
  
Stinker's face fell when he realized Spot was giving him the get-to-the-point glare. "A-an' den he says he'd give me a whole dollar if I could find out why you wears a key, Mista Spot sir.. I ast around but nobody knows! So den Hamface here-" he pointed to the dumb one, who smiled. "got a real flash a' brains an' says lets just go ast youse ourselves! So we did.. but we didn't know youse was sleepin', we'll scram.."  
  
The little one was hiding behind Hamface and looked ready to bolt.  
  
Spot thought for a minute, then reached over with his cane and pulled up a crate. He sat down, adjusted his hat, and looked at them. He stretched, took the key off of its string, and let it shine in the sunlight.   
  
The little Newsie ran off for a minute, but came back with an armload of Newsies about his own age, some older, some who even had the courage to speak to Spot on a regular basis. They all crowded around and started yammering about why Spot was calling a meeting out of nowhere like this, but they didn't seem to complain much.  
  
Spot tapped his cane on the crate. Everyone shut up.  
  
"Youse wanna why I got dis key around my neck, eh? Awright then. Siddown, ya buncha basta'ds. Ol' Spot's gonna tell youse a story."  
  
  



	2. II

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KEY TO BROOKLYN   
  
  
  
  
"I just toined fourteen. A tender age fa any man to be takin' a throne, but hey, a man don't always choose his place. I was a Newsie, like you all are now, but I didn't do dumb shit like the rest a' youse schmucks. None a' dis t'rowin' fruit at people, none a' dis stupid kid stuff. Back in my day we had real fights, real soakin's the buncha you would pay ya week's pape money just ta see and twice dat to stay out of. Da scabbas followed youse around right on ya heels, makin' sure youse sold ya papes an' extra sure you ate the leftovas.  
  
"One day I was done wit' my papes, an' dat meant da scabbas was gonna be afta me for a fifty pa'cent Not Kickin Ya Ass tax, an' dat meant I had to run-- whatta you rats laughin' at, huh?! Youse betta shut ya traps a'fore I break ya face-- to someplace safe.  
  
"I was runnin' all through Brooklyn, tryin' a lose the scabs so's I could keep my money an' eat a good dinner fa once. I went down into an alley an' I climbed up a fire escape, right up to da roof. Dey chased me across ten rooftops an over a clothesline-- hardest things in da woild to balance on, clotheslines, especially when dey got a fat broad's unmentionables on 'em, it's like a sail or somethin!-- until dey chased me into dis real fancy hotel.   
  
"I climbed in t'rough da window an' locked it behind me, an' I found myself inside a room da likes a' which you scum ain't gonna see in ya lifetimes, ever.   
  
"There was a red carpet so soft it was like walkin' on real fat pillows, so I took off my shoes. I was kinda tired so I sat down on da bed, and ahhh.... it was like heaven, youse guys.. big blanket wit' no holes in it, big pillows wit' real pillowcases, an' sheets, youse guys.. real honest-to-Gawd sheets. I laid back a little and afore I knew it, I'd gone right to sleep-- NOT like Goldilocks, wiseass! You want this cane up where da sun don't shine, runt? Do ya? I thought not. Now lemme get on wit' da story.  
  
"Anyways, I stayed sleepin' for a long time, until finally I hoid the door open, and I dived unda da bed. It was some real rich lady, wit' lotsa poils and diamonds an' gold. As soon as she left I was gonna steal some of 'em, a man could live fa weeks on that ol' broad's jewelry! But she didn't leave any of it! She got some stuff outta her handbag, and then she went out again. I figured I betta get outta dere, an' quick, so's I went an' got my shoes, and just as I was puttin' em on, I hoid da lady coming back in. I was too far away from da bed to make it unda it in time, so I ran into da foist door I could get to and shut it real tight behind me.  
  
"And dere I saw it. It was all porcelain, wit' a real brass faucet and da kinda feet that make it stand up off da floor. Dere was a jar a flowa petals an' all kinda stuff all on dis little tray, real soap an' shampoo an' such. Fluffy towels, too. I was lucky dat the tub wasn't full or nothin' 'cause I jumped in without even thinkin' about it, an' I ducked down real low.  
  
"I hoid da lady sit down on her bed, and then this guy came into da room.  
  
"Is everything in order?" he says.  
  
"Yes, dear." she says. "Everything's going according to plan."   
  
"I hoid some more noise, like a drawer openin' and somebody rootin' through it. They said some more stuff but I wasn't listenin' much, 'cause I was scared they was gonna see me. But all of a sudden it got real quiet, an' I picked up my head to listen, but all I could hear was da two a' dem get up an' start shufflin' around.  
  
"The longer it went on, the more upset they got, and finally da man an' da broad started panickin', and they ran around knockin' stuff over and then they left, quick as you please.   
  
"That's when I heard it-- the bulls. They was comin', so whateva I'd got mixed in with was some serious stuff, and I had to get outta there! I came outta da baffroom and I went to go t'rough da window again, but I saw a long black laquer box like what dose bracelet t'ings come in, and I grabbed it on my way out-- No, it wasn't 'cause I wanted to wear it, Dwayne, don't be stupit-- and I ran real fast.  
  
"I couldn't go back to da lodge 'cause whatevah was in it would get stolen, so I hid in da alley behind da hotel dat night. Da bulls was sniffin' around da joint, and I ovahoid da maids takin' out da trash sayin' some very interestin' t'ings.   
  
"Some broad had almost a thousand samolians in stolen jewels an' gold in her room, but she disappeahed like a good pape down a storm drain. Dey said dat she was on da run from da law, and they got all da stolen moichandise back except fa one thing: a special box. Neida one'a dem maids knew what was in it, but dey says it had to be real valuable. Well, I looked at the box I got from da room, but it had a little lock on it an' no key an' I couldn't open it.  
  
"So's I got to thinkin, somebody really wants whatevah's in dis box. It prob'ly wasn't money, an' it didn't weigh enough ta be gold or real valuable jewelry, an' it rattled sorta when I shook it. Maybe it's a 'eirloom or somethin, I t'ought. But whatevah it is, I bet it's got a real nice reward for da innocent boy scout who finds it in the alley.  
  
"Da papes da next day were real hot, headline was nice an' juicy, all about da stolen goods an' how dis lady an' her husband stole a buncha stuff outta da safe-deposit boxes at a huge bank upstate. See da husband was an attorney an' he'd find real sick old guys an' broads like in da hospital, an' he'd change their wills so that when the ol' bat died, his own wife would get da keys to deposit boxes, then they'd go to da funeral, get da key, steal da goods an' be on their way. Real high-class job, that's fa sure. I was most impressed. But there was one real interestin' thing about da story-- there was 22 keys reported stolen, but only 20 recovah'ed, and that meant that two more keys was still out there.  
  
"I decided ta keep da box, fa a keepsake, 'cause it didn't look real valuable anymore. But as I was walkin' to my sellin' spot, some guy's stupit dog got loose and tripped me up, an' I landed on da box in my pocket. I got up an' took it out-- there was a broken piece on da bottom of da box, but it didn't look... broken. It looked like it was a piece that just happens ta come off.   
  
"I messed with it a little and da little lock on it was just fa show, the bottom came out. An' inside it was dis very key."   



End file.
